-By LeN Political Correspondent - (for the first anniversary of 'Anurella')
(Lanka-e-News - 19.Sep.2025, 11.00 PM)
On a humid afternoon in Colombo, 13 July 2019, a small crowd gathered in a hall not far from Parliament. It was not the usual JVP rally — no red flags, no fiery speeches about class war. Instead, professionals in suits mingled with academics, trade unionists and activists. On that day, twenty-one organisations, ranging from small political parties to civil society movements, launched what they called the National People’s Power (NPP).
The initiative was led by the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP), Sri Lanka’s once-feared Marxist revolutionary party. To many, it looked like a rebranding exercise — a way to escape the long shadow of the JVP’s violent past. To others, it was the first sign of a genuine political realignment in a country exhausted by corruption, dynasties and economic decline.
Five years on, the NPP has become more than an experiment. It is now the most ambitious attempt to transform Sri Lanka’s political left into a credible governing force since independence.
The JVP’s history is both its asset and its burden. Founded in the 1960s, it rose to prominence as a militant Marxist-Leninist movement. Twice — in 1971 and 1987–89 — it launched insurrections against the state. Both were brutally crushed, leaving tens of thousands dead.
By the 2000s, the JVP had abandoned armed struggle and entered parliamentary politics. Yet it remained stigmatised, its reputation haunted by images of assassinations, bombings and the violent repression of dissent. Its parliamentary interventions were often principled — exposing corruption, critiquing economic mismanagement — but the party remained locked out of power.
For a younger generation of leaders, including Anura Kumara Dissanayake, this was unsustainable. Unless the JVP shed its revolutionary baggage and expanded its social base, it risked permanent irrelevance.
The solution was to build a broad coalition. In July 2019, the NPP was unveiled as an umbrella platform. Twenty-one groups — including minority parties, professional associations and community organisations — signed on. The JVP would provide the backbone: organisational discipline, a committed cadre, and national reach. The new allies would add legitimacy, expertise and broader appeal.
In effect, the NPP was a co-branding exercise. Instead of asking voters to trust the JVP directly, it asked them to trust a wider movement: one that included doctors, engineers, lawyers, academics, and business figures. This was a political product designed to reassure the middle classes that left-wing politics in Sri Lanka no longer meant street violence and economic chaos.
“We are building a system, not a cult of personality,” Dissanayake declared at the launch. The NPP, he insisted, would offer a well-organised model of governance, not the chaotic patronage networks of the past.
One of the most striking aspects of the NPP’s rise has been its ability to recruit from Sri Lanka’s professional class. In a country where politics is often dominated by patronage, dynasties and populism, the NPP’s inclusion of technocrats was novel.
Lawyers and academics drafted policy platforms. Businesspeople, wary of chronic corruption and policy instability, found the movement attractive. For them, the JVP’s discipline — once a liability — became an asset. Unlike the country’s traditional parties, the NPP projected order, transparency and accountability.
By 2020, NPP forums featured slick presentations on fiscal reform, judicial independence and education policy. It was a world away from the slogans and marches that had defined the JVP in earlier decades.
The NPP also understood that Sri Lanka’s future is intertwined with its diaspora. Millions of Sri Lankans live abroad, sending home billions of dollars in remittances. Many are highly educated professionals frustrated by the country’s persistent dysfunction.
From 2019 onwards, Anura and his colleagues held meetings in London, Toronto, Melbourne and the Gulf. These events were carefully staged — more like corporate roadshows than traditional political rallies. PowerPoint slides replaced revolutionary manifestos. Instead of revolutionary rhetoric, the message was one of systemic reform and professional governance.
This outreach served two purposes. First, it tapped into diaspora networks that could provide funds, skills and international credibility. Second, it positioned the NPP as a globally aware, modern movement, able to engage with the West, India and China without being beholden to any of them.
But the strategy has not been without risk. Within the JVP, veterans who lived through the insurrections carry deep scars. For them, any dilution of the party’s revolutionary identity feels like betrayal. The memories of the 1987 Indo-Lanka Accord — which the JVP bitterly opposed — still resonate. Thousands of cadres were killed resisting what they saw as an Indian intrusion into Sri Lanka’s sovereignty.
Externally, critics dismiss the NPP as “old wine in a new bottle.” Rivals have painted the rebranding as cosmetic, insisting that the JVP remains an extremist force hiding behind professional allies. In Parliament, government ministers have taunted Anura as “the same Marxist in a new suit.”
Balancing ideological purity with political pragmatism has been a delicate act. So far, Anura has managed to hold the coalition together. But internal tensions are never far below the surface.
At the heart of the NPP’s appeal is its promise to overhaul Sri Lanka’s governance. The country has endured years of economic decline, mounting debt, and corruption scandals. Traditional parties have offered little more than recycled promises.
The NPP’s policy platform focuses on:
Restructuring the economy: reducing dependence on debt, promoting sustainable industries, and curbing corruption in state contracts.
Judicial reform: strengthening independence of courts and ending political interference.
Education and health: investing in public services long neglected by neoliberal policies.
Decentralisation: empowering local communities to reduce the grip of centralised elites.
Unlike past JVP platforms, these proposals are couched not in Marxist jargon but in technocratic language. This shift has been deliberate: the NPP wants to be seen as a government-in-waiting, not a protest movement.
For the JVP, the NPP has offered redemption. Once caricatured as a band of extremists, the party is now central to debates about reform. Its cadres, many of whom sacrificed their lives in past struggles, can now claim that their movement has matured into a legitimate national force.
The NPP also provides a shield. When critics attack the JVP’s past, the coalition can point to its broader base — doctors, professors, entrepreneurs — and insist that it is no longer bound by old ideologies.
This rebounding is not just about image. It reflects the JVP’s recognition that Sri Lanka’s crisis is no longer about revolution, but about survival in a globalised world. By adapting, the party has given itself a second life.
Sri Lanka’s politics are never insulated from geopolitics. India, China and the West all watch closely. For New Delhi, the memory of the JVP’s opposition to the Indo-Lanka Accord is a reminder of the party’s capacity for disruption. For Beijing, the rise of a disciplined, nationalist-leaning leftist force raises questions about future alignment. For Western capitals, the NPP’s emphasis on transparency and rule of law is welcome — but there is lingering suspicion about its Marxist roots.
Anura has sought to reassure all sides. “We are not isolationists,” he told a London audience in 2022. “We believe Sri Lanka must engage globally, but on equal terms.” It is a careful line: nationalist enough to appease domestic audiences, pragmatic enough to keep international partners engaged.
The traditional parties — UNP, SLFP and SLPP — have all tried to undermine the NPP. Their main line of attack is to dredge up the JVP’s violent past. State media frequently replay footage from the 1980s insurrections. Government spokesmen warn that the NPP is “dangerous” and “untested.”
Yet these attacks have diminishing returns. For younger voters, the 1980s are ancient history. Their concerns are corruption, jobs and education. In fact, the more the establishment attacks the JVP for its past, the more it reinforces the perception that the NPP is the only movement genuinely feared by the ruling elite.
The NPP’s rise is not guaranteed. Its strength lies in unity, but coalitions are fragile. Disagreements over policy, leadership and strategy could fracture the movement. There is also the risk of over-promising: voters, desperate for change, may expect miracles. Governing a bankrupt nation is a task few envy.
Moreover, the NPP must prove it can win not just protest votes but lasting majorities. Sri Lanka’s electoral system is complex, and dynastic parties still control local patronage networks. Breaking through will require not only policy but political machinery.
Perhaps the NPP’s greatest achievement has been to change the language of politics in Sri Lanka. Where once the left spoke in revolutionary slogans, it now speaks in terms of systems, governance and transparency. Where once the JVP was feared, it is now, at least in some quarters, respected.
This shift reflects a broader global trend: left-wing movements rebranding themselves to survive in an era dominated by neoliberalism and populism. For Sri Lanka, it may signal the beginning of a new political era.
The creation of the NPP was, at its heart, Anura Kumara Dissanayake’s gamble — a bet that Sri Lankans were ready to move beyond fear of the JVP’s past and embrace a new coalition for reform. It was also a recognition that no single party, least of all one with a revolutionary stigma, could tackle the country’s profound crisis alone.
Five years later, the gamble has paid off — at least partially. The NPP is no longer dismissed as a fringe experiment. It is a contender. Whether it can convert that momentum into real power will define not just the future of the JVP, but perhaps the future of Sri Lanka itself.
For now, one thing is clear: the JVP’s transformation through the NPP is the boldest rebranding project in the island’s modern history. And it may yet be remembered as the moment when a revolutionary movement finally learned to govern.
-By LeN Political Correspondent
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by (2025-09-20 18:32:26)
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